


Ugly As Sin

by sinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, Stanford Era, Stanford Wincest, Stanford!Wincest, Unrequited Wincest, Unrequited!Wincest, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6277699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinchester/pseuds/sinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes to fetch Sam when John goes missing, having not seen him for 2 years. Short drabble about the night before Sam left for Stanford and how Sam doesn't really feel like Dean's brother any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ugly As Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry because it's rubbish and incoherent. For Geny, as usual. I can do more parts if requested.

Sometimes, people describe the subjectively unattractive as being 'ugly as sin'. This implies that sin itself is unattractive.

To Dean Winchester, sin had never looked so good.

Dean spent what felt like years in the car on the journey to Stanford trying to picture what Sam would look like. He imagined the Sam that had left; thin, moderately lanky and not really sure of what to do with his hands. He had always seemed so vulnerable on the outside, so innocent, blushed cheeks and pink lips that he bit when he was worried - Dean wished he could've been the one to do that - and timid _"Dean?"_ s, yet he was so- he could take his big brother so well and- 

No. That was- that was _not_... it just wasn't. 

Dean reached for his phone on the dashboard to call Sam and warn him that he was coming. When his hand was suspended in the air, it quaked slightly. He gripped the wheel again. 

Dean cocked his head to the side and nodded, exhaling out of his nose in slight disbelief when he had remembered Sam had began to work out just before he left for college. He used to go for runs to 'clear his head' (Dean suspected it was really to get out of those filthy motel rooms and the filthy food that stunk them up and him), but they would never do more than make him able to actually breathe when- 

_God, just forget about it. It never happened. It never happened._

He remembered how Sam was lifting weights and running on those, uh, treadmills (or whatever they're called) by the time he walked out of the door that one morning. He chuckled at the thought of how Sam had probably given it up two weeks into his school course, mumbling some excuse to the local gym members that he was 'too swamped in work' or that 'the college life was changing him'. 

How much _had_ it changed him? 

Dean brushed off the thought poking at his brain that he was refusing to let in. The thought that his baby brother wasn't- 

_"Baby boy. Slow down, I got you. Your big brother's got you."_

His baby brother wasn't gonna be _his_ any more. 

"God, just fucking forget about it" Dean mumbled under his breath. 

-

Jesus, this felt so wrong. 

Dean was staring at Sam, a smirk on his face. Despite his knowing look, he had never felt more in over his head in his life. Who was this guy, and what had he done with Sam Winchester? 

Christ, he was just miles and miles of muscle and just... matter. Sam was big. Like, bigger than Dean. He was- fuck, he was tall, much taller than his brother, and his arms were toned and his chest was bursting out of his t shirt and what the hell was this? Why did he have to grow up? He knew it was wrong, but all he could think about was licking and pinching every inch of that gorgeous body. 

Hell, Sam was cute before, but now Dean just wanted him so fucking bad. __

_"Want you. Please, De." Sam was grappling at his brother's shoulders as if they were all that was preventing him from falling right off a cliff. "Shhh, Sammy, it's alright. You're gonna have me, but I gotta make sure you're ready first, 'kay?"_

Oh my God, just fucking forget about i- 

Dean attempted to avoid looking at the woman Sam claimed to be his girlfriend wherever possible, focusing instead on Sam's hair. He'd grown it out, and it looked slightly unruly but that was kind of adorable, and he decided he would take any excuse he could get to ruffle it or run his fingers through it. 

 

He thought it would happen differently. All of this. He wasn't entirely certain of what he had expected - he knew it wouldn't be him knocking on the door and Sammy answering it and pulling him inside and pushing him up against the wall - he didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't this.

Sam didn't appear... happy to see him. He was irritable, impatient, possessive over this girl that Dean had never even heard of before. 

Well, Dean hadn't heard of _anything_ in Sam's life since the day he took off. 

All Dean could picture as Sam snaked his arm around his 'girlfriend' was Sam letting someone else in, letting someone else call him all the names he had for his brother. If he called her Sammy... 

Shit, the thought of someone else making Sam feel good, his Sam, made him feel a little sick. 

There was so much Dean had to... Dean had to get to know all over again now the stomach he thought he'd be running his hands over was firm and solid, not like the soft, warm-

_"Such a good boy. Such a pretty little boy" Dean purred in satisfaction as he skirted his fingers over Sam's torso._

_"Dean, please, just- please, now" Sam was full-on begging now, not caring how desperate he sounded. He was desperate. He ground his hips up against Dean, longing for friction._

_"I'm gonna take my time with this, Sammy. This is the only time I'll get to do this for- well, I don't know." "Dean, this is the first, you'll- you'll get other chances, just please" Sam urged._

Every part of him had changed, not just one area, and that girl was so lucky, getting to worship his body like Dean always wanted to. Getting to know it all. 

 

He couldn't help but press his ear against the front door of Sam's flat while he said a goodbye to Jess Dean wasn't even supposed to know he was saying. 

"I'll see you in a couple days, sweetheart." Sweetheart. 

God, Dean could smash the wood he was leaning on to the ground. 

"Yeah. Now come here." anyone would have been able to _hear_ the smile on Jess's face. 

The following noises Dean heard were the unmistakable sounds of two people chewing each other's fucking faces off. The memory of Sam's lips on his own flashed through his mind; soft, wet, swollen, gorgeous. The feeling of Sam's lips on the rest of Dean's body, the way he had thrown his head back and panted when Sam had sucked and bit and marked his chest, his neck, his thighs, his- 

He heard Sam approach the door and call out "bye, babe!" and he jolted back, afraid Sam would catch him in the act. 

"Hey, Sammy." 

"Hi, Dean" Sam sighed, evidently regretting this little trip already. 

Dean was acutely aware that they remained standing directly outside his brother's front door, and if he were to speak at a volume higher than a whisper, Jess would probably hear it. 

 

He didn't have it in himself to care. 

"What about my 'other chances', huh?" Dean bobbed his head and smiled what he was hoping would be shit-eating grin, but was more of a sad surrender. 

"Your what?" Sam's brow furrowed. 

"You know, the night we-" 

Suddenly, Sam's hand was flying over his older brother's mouth. "Dean, she can't hear that. I _love_ her." 

_"'Love you, Sammy. Always have, always will" Dean murmured, his face buried in Sam's neck._

_"Dean" Sam whined, and the older boy had never heard a cry so full of longing in his entire life. "Dean, I love you t-too, I-"_

A moment later, Dean stopped struggling against his brother's hand and watched his chest as his breathing returned to normal. He had never witnessed him that panicked. Ever. 

"It was wrong, ya know?" 

Dean said nothing. He could've vomited all over his brother's stupid t shirt. 

 

"Let's just get driving" Sam sulked, moodily flinging his hand off Dean's face. 

Now _that's_ the Sammy I know, Dean would've said if his mouth hadn't gone dry. 

-

Every 30 seconds, Dean grasped the steering wheel of the car a bit harder in order to distract himself from what Sam had told him. Not even the searing pain that shot through him once he had bitten his own tongue would force the words he had heard leave his brother's mouth out of his mind. His eyes filled up with salty tears. He questioned if it was due to Sam's biting little speech or the taste of blood on his tongue, but at the same time, he didn't care to discover the answer. 

"Are you okay, Dean?"

 _"Dean, we can't let her hear that. I love her."_

"I'm fine, Sam." 

_"It was wrong, ya know?"_

 

People are right, Dean thought to himself. 

 

Sin is so fucking ugly.


End file.
